She didn't move. I got in front of her and took a look at her face. She didn't seem to be preparing for more clamour, so I went and squatted for a quick survey of the corpus. A quick one was enough. I glanced up at her again and saw that she was breathing through her nose. I rocked on my heels for half a minute, gazing at the chinless wonder and using my brain up to capacity. Then I stood up and said:

"The first and worst thing seems to be that I've got that goddam paper in my pocket."

She met my eye and said with her lips barely moving, "Give it to me."

"Sure. That'd be swell."

I walked around a table to get at one of the windows, which fronted on 38th Street, and opened it and poked my head out, and saw what I hoped to see. I pulled my head in and asked her, "How's your nerve?"

"My nerve's all right."

"Then come over here."

She came, nice and steady, and I told her to look out the window with me.

"See the grey and white taxi-cab at the kerb in the middle of the block?"

"Yes."

"Go down there and you'll find a man inside. Ask him if his name is Fred Durkin, and he'll say it is. Tell him I want him up here quick, but no more than that, because the driver will hear you. Come back up with him and use your keys. I'll be watching from the window, and if you get an impulse to scoot off-"

"I won't."

"Okay. Step on it. You're a good, brave girl."

She went. In a few seconds, from my post at the window, I saw her descend the stoop, trot to the taxi, open the door and speak to its inhabitant, and come back with Fred. Not sure of what a Montenegrin female might do under stress, I stayed at the window until they both entered the room. Fred stopped short at sight of the casualty on the floor.

"I'll be darned," he said, and looked at me.

"No," I said, "not guilty this time. Nobody will ever sock him again." I pulled the paper from my pocket. "Here's something important. I discovered this corpse and I can't leave it, and after certain events that happened yesterday they're apt to frisk me to the skin when they come. Take this-hey, you little devil!"

Neya had lunged like a champion with an йpйe, grabbed the paper from my fingers and sprung back. She stood there clutching it.

"Jesus," I said, "you're like a streak of lightning! But you're dumb. You've got to stay here too, and I'll see that you do. When the cops come they'll go through this place, including us, extra special for to-day considering yesterday. They would love to have that paper, and they'll have it. Hand it to Fred. Well?"

Her breast heaved.

"Don't be dumb, damn it! The only chance of getting out of here is for him to take it! Hand it over!"

Fred stuck out a hand. "Gimme, lady."

"What will he do with it?"

"Take care of it." She didn't move. I stepped over and yanked it out of her fingers and passed it to Fred. "Go down and dismiss your taxi," I told him, "and take the roadster and go to the office. If Wolfe's alone, give him that paper. If he isn't, go to the kitchen and have Fritz bring Wolfe to the kitchen and give him the paper there."

"Do I tell him-?"

"I'll phone him. If and when you're questioned, tell them just what happened, leaving out the paper. I'm sending you to the office because I know I'll be held up here God knows how long, and with me absent Wolfe will need you. Okay?"

"Okay." He turned to go.

"Hold it. Stay there by the door a minute." I began darting around. I took a look behind a sofa and even under it, and opened a closet door for a glance inside, and had my hand on the knob of another door leading to the rear of the flat when Fred growled:

"Hey, what about prints?"

"To hell with prints. I've got a right to look for a murderer, haven't I?" I went on through, and kept moving, bothering only with places big enough to hide a man or woman. It didn't take long, since there was only a bath, a kitchenette, and two small bedrooms. I trotted back to the front and told Fred, "All right, one, two, three, go," and he beat it.

I looked at Neya. "You're starting to tremble. You'd better sit down."

She shook her head. "I'm all right. But I. I. Carla. Where is she?"

"Search me." I had gone around the table to where the phone was and lifted it from its cradle.

"But wait-please! Why can't we. just leave? Just go and find her?"

"Sure. Splendid." I started dialling. "You certainly get charming ideas. Like the one yesterday, stuffing that junk in my pocket. Just lock up and go, huh? With those babies at Miltan's knowing we started for here and Fred's taxi-driver-"

The phone told me: "This is Nero Wolfe."

I kept my voice down. "Hallo, boss. Let's be discreet."

"Oh, yes."

"Cramer there?"

"Yes."

"Well, leave it open so that if you want to you can say it was the Salvation Army. We went to Miltan's and Carla had been there, but left for home. We came on here, 404 East 38th. Got the address?"

"Yes."

"Old house, walk-up, two flights. Neya let us in with her key. Rudolph Faber was lying on the floor dead. Hole through his coat, left breast. Shirt soaked with blood inside. No weapon. Carla not around on quick inspection I'm phoning from right here, this room, and Neya is standing here-"

"One moment. I was empowered without reservation-"

"That's all right. Fred was tailing us and Neya went down for him and I gave it to him and he's on his way with it now. He can be traced here easy, and so can we. The place has been frisked by someone in a hurry-drawers standing open, things scattered on the floor, and so on. The number of this phone is Hammond 3-4505. Do you want me to keep on talking?"

"No."

"Do you want to ring off and let your genius work and I'll call again in three minutes?"

"No. You had better stay there, both of you. Mr Cramer is here, and I'll tell him about it. Hold the wire."

I heard him telling Cramer, and I heard noises which were presumably the inspector turning somersaults. Then a voice in my ear not Wolfe's.

"Goodwin!" Cramer yapped.

"Yes, sir, speaking."

"You stay there, hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

That was all, except the click I hung up and walked to Neya, took her elbow and steered her to a chair, and put her in it.

"They'll be here in five minutes. Or less. This time Inspector Cramer will get here first. And this time you're connected up. Here in your own front room. What are you going to tell him?"

Her eyes met mine. They didn't waver, but she was having trouble with her chin. She shook her head. "What can I tell him?"

"I don't know. What can you?"

"Nothing."

"Not enough. Under the circumstances. Did your friend Carla do it?"

"I don't know."

"Did you?"

"You know I didn't!"

"I do not Is there a lot of stuff around here about Bosnian forests and Barrett amp; De Russy and secret codes-"

"No, nothing. I am very careful."

"Yeah, this looks like it. All I'm saying, if you try telling Cramer that you know nothing about Faber and you can't imagine why in the world he came here to get killed, you'll find yourself out on a limb If you tell the truth, that won't be it, and if you decide on lies, you'll have to do a lot better than that. One little fact is that whoever killed Faber deprived you of your alibi for the murder of Ludlow. I'm not trying to scare you, I'm only trying to make you grab hold-"

The phone rang and I went and got it.

"This is Hammond 3-45-"

"Archie. Mr Cramer will be there shortly."

"Goody!"

"How is Miss Tormic?"

"She's all right. She says her mind's a blank."

"Shock?"

"No, just ignorance."

"When she is questioned about anything except her movements since ten o'clock this morning-which is the time Mr Faber left this house alive-she will decline to reply except in the presence of her attorney. That is amply justified in the circumstances."